The midterms may have placed new limits around Trump’s presidency, but they have not settled the question of what produced it. Those forces will continue to shape American politics, whoever occupies the White House.
Depending on which poll or survey you go by, voters in these US midterms were most concerned about living costs, including fuel prices; government corruption; and the condition of American democracy. Both President Trump and Vice President Vance blame the Republican losses on people’s dissatisfaction with the war in Iran. Now that the Democrats have trumped (sorry) both the Senate and the House, will they be able to change things? And, in the longer term, what happens to the underlying trends that led to Trump being elected twice?
Democrats now have considerably more power to respond to voters’ concerns. Their majorities give them the leadership of congressional committees, the ability to initiate investigations, control of the Senate confirmation process, and the power to determine which legislation reaches a vote. Because new federal laws must pass both the House and the Senate, they can prevent most new Trump-backed legislation from reaching the president’s desk. They can introduce legislation on housing, health care, grocery competition, tariff powers, voting rights, and financial disclosure. They will also be able to investigate alleged corruption, scrutinise contracts and public spending, block presidential nominees, and, because only Congress can pass it, they will be able to prevent much of Trump’s legislative agenda from proceeding. This might include, for example, proposed national voter-eligibility requirements, further funding and statutory powers for immigration enforcement, a national AI framework limiting conflicting state regulation, and faster federal permitting for AI, energy, and data-centre infrastructure.
However, passing their own legislation will remain difficult for Democrats. Their 54 Senate seats leave them six votes short of the 60 normally required to end debate on contested legislation and overcome a filibuster. Even if a bill passes both chambers, President Trump can veto it, and Democrats remain 13 Senate votes short of the 67 necessary to override that veto (it’s more complicated than this, but I have a word limit). In practice, Democrats will need Republican support to advance most major legislation through the Senate and, unless they can assemble the much larger majorities required to override a veto, Trump’s signature for it to become law.
In addition, President Trump retains substantial power. He can continue directing immigration agents to prioritise detention and deportation, tighten visa processing, restrict entry from designated countries, and use enforcement resources Congress has already funded. He can also continue imposing tariffs under existing trade laws, provided the administration follows the particular requirements of those laws. The legal constraints are real: the Supreme Court has already rejected his use of emergency economic powers for some tariffs. But Trump has responded by turning to other statutory authorities, including national-security and unfair-trade provisions, rather than abandoning the policy. Democratic control will bring much stronger scrutiny of the effects on prices, industries, and individual exemptions, but it does not immediately narrow the powers Congress previously delegated. In foreign policy, Trump can continue negotiating with Iran, imposing sanctions under existing authority, directing limited military operations, shaping negotiations over Ukraine, and controlling the timing and composition of some previously authorised military assistance. Congress can restrict future funding and legislate limits, but Democrats cannot directly conduct diplomacy or command the military.
In all these areas, Democrats can investigate particular practices and impose conditions on future funding, but taking control of Congress does not switch the existing enforcement machinery off. They can introduce legislation, even pass it, but Trump can veto it.
Put simply, the election makes it harder for Trump to obtain new laws, new money, and new Senate-confirmed officials. It does not prevent him from using existing laws, existing funding, executive agencies, sanctions, diplomacy, and military command. So while Democrats now have more power to constrain and scrutinise the administration, they have less power to deliver the broader changes many voters may now expect. If Congress spends the next two years conducting investigations, including possibly impeachment, blocking appointments, and fighting over executive authority, will they be able to make the visible improvements in people’s lives this election strongly suggest Americans want? And if they fail to meet the considerable expectations created by the result, perhaps in part because the structure of the system makes those expectations impossible to meet, then what?
The United States in which President Trump was first elected in 2016 was already deeply divided. Economic insecurity and the uneven effects of globalisation left many communities feeling abandoned. Confidence in government and other established institutions was falling. Social, racial, and cultural divisions were becoming more politically salient, while social media rewarded outrage and reinforced the growing sense that politics was a struggle between irreconcilable groups. Donald Trump did not create those conditions, but he adeptly recognised and mobilised them. He presented himself as the anti-establishment alternative who would fight corrupt and incompetent elites, restore control, protect “the people” from threatening outsiders, and break through institutions that stood in their way. Trump connected a myriad of grievances into one compelling political story: the system was rigged, ordinary Americans were losing out, and only someone prepared to disregard the normal rules could fix it.
During that first term, Trump was constrained by resistance from within his own administration, the professional civil service, Congress, the courts, state governments, the media, and other institutions. That resistance did not always stop him, but it often delayed, narrowed, or exposed what his administration was trying to do. Trump’s second term has subsequently tested those constraints much more systematically. Analysts have described an effort to centralise control over the executive branch, weaken the independence of agencies and the civil service, circumvent congressional spending decisions, stretch emergency powers, challenge judicial authority, and use government power against institutions and organisations regarded as hostile.
Perhaps these midterms mark the point at which enough Americans decided they wanted the guardrails back: firmer limits on presidential power, greater accountability, and a political system in which the fight can be fierce but the rules still mean something, and breaking them carries some consequences. It is an appealing interpretation. It may even be right. But it’s also very possible that many voters may instead have been delivering a more immediate verdict on living costs, corruption, the war in Iran, and the administration’s performance, rather than rejecting Trump’s underlying political project.
The conditions that made two Trump presidencies possible remain deeply embedded in American society. Economic insecurity has not disappeared. Nor have perceptions of unfairness, cultural anxiety, political polarisation, distrust of institutions, or anger at an establishment many Americans believe has failed them. Trump is not simply the author of America’s political disruption. He is one of its most powerful expressions. The midterms may have placed new limits around his presidency, but they have not settled the question of what produced it. Those forces will continue to shape American politics, whoever occupies the White House. The midterms may constrain the current disruption, but they are unlikely to end it. More turbulence lies ahead.